


Coagulating in your Veins

by realpoutydadsurvives (collettephinz)



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: "sex pollen", Aftermath, Dubious Consent, Hurt, M/M, Monster Fuck, Not Beta Read, Other, Slight Comfort, Tentacle Rape, bastardization of molded attributes cause i need some sort of logic in here, but got a little caught up, chris redfield saves the day, gross squishy sounds cause Mold, leon s kennedy tried to save the day, more monster porn because i'm doing satan's work now, non-consented aphrodisiac, okay so real tags, pre-existing relationship, uh yeah just be careful reading this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 16:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19066654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collettephinz/pseuds/realpoutydadsurvives
Summary: Leon S. Kennedy is sent into the Mold-infested salt mine after Chris Redfield fails to answer his comms for just a little too long. Leon knows better than to think rescuing his boyfriend from a BOW war-zone is going to be easy, but even his years of experience won't be able to prepare him for what actually happens.





	Coagulating in your Veins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rnachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rnachine/gifts).



> it's kao's birthday so you know they need the finger lickin good monster porn sorry i'm basically a terrible person now and that's the way i'm gonna stay like loOK AT SOMEONE OF THE DESIGNS YOU'VE MADE CAPCOM THIS ISN'T FAIR

The damp caves have Leon’s nerves on edge, his gun aimed at the ground, the SIG-Sauer P226 E2 loose in his grip as he surveyed the area. This “Mold” bullshit was everywhere, disgusting and rampant, caking the walls and twisting across the floor. He stepped carefully past a mound of the physical infection that was up to his waist, the twisting lump of quivering disease making his skin crawl.

“Redfield, you better be alive when I find you,” Leon told the empty air, reminding himself of all the reasons why he hated rescue operations when it was someone he knew. Someone he cared about. Rescue Ops were bad enough ever since fucking Spain, just one disaster dropping on top of the other and barely making it out by the skin of his teeth, and that had been Ashley, a girl he’d barely known at the time. But now— now Leon was rescuing Redfield.

God, _Chris_ Redfield, no point in leaving out the first name like it would soothe the ache any better. What he and Chris were was decidedly tentative, fresh and new and raw between them, only three dates so far and yet Leon had been ready to slam headfirst into something more serious from the moment he’d gotten the courage to ask Chris out at all after that fuckup in New York City. The taller man had gone all soft and starry-eyed and hugged Leon since he hadn't been able to get words out. There was something about Chris that made Leon feel safe and wanted and worthwhile and to be completely fucking candid, Leon had been about to invite Chris up into his apartment after their third date when Chris has gotten the call to head into butt-fuck Louisiana. Talk about a cock block. And then Chris’s comms had gone dark a few hours ago and Leon had been sent in, making the short flight from Virginia to Louisiana with his heart hammering in his chest. 

“Shouldn’t have trusted Blue Umbrella,” Leon said to himself, trying to keep his senses sharp for anything that could be hostile, but constantly being distracted by the sounds of the sliding mess that was the Mold. Lucas Baker wasn’t confirmed KIA yet so he could be just as much of an issue. And this damn virus had a bad habit of consuming people and thoughts and consciousness. Leon prayed Chris’s stubborn nature had carried him through this cursed salt mine, that he’d just brute-forced his way past being killed. Chris Redfield wasn’t going to be brought down by some fuck-ass kid with a god complex. Chris was fine.

There was a curve ahead and then a huge cavern opened up in the mine, the Mold stretching across the ceiling and overtaking everything, vines curled around equipment and overhead walkways, a single room up a set of stairs just encased in the filth. From below in the dim light, Leon could see the door to this room— probably some sort of guard room or communications area or maybe even a break room for mine workers— had been opened relatively recently, the Mold that had once held it shut torn and falling away with artificial light spilling from the place. The most recent sign of life Leon had seen in here.

There was the skittering of something moving behind him, but when Leon looked over his shoulder, he saw nothing. Leon grimaced and tried to keep himself from getting so spooked out that he dropped his guard. “You better be alive, Chris,” he said again. “You owe me a god damn lobster dinner for this schtick.” 

He climbed the stairs slowly, careful not to slip as the Mold sludged beneath his boots, the sounds making him feel like he could gag. “This is almost as bad as the fucking sewers in Raccoon,” he griped, kicking past a cancerous mound of disease before reaching the top of the rickety stairs that creaked a complaint beneath his weight. He winced as he heard another sound of slapping feet behind him, but turned to find nothing. He had the niggling feeling that he was being watched and couldn’t do a damn thing about it. A glance around proved no cameras or any sort of recording equipment, not even some god awful drone hovering above. Leon was almost positive he was alone even when his gut insisted he wasn’t.

Leon unwillingly shoved the instinct down and pushed open the door that had been torn free, grimacing at the sound of the Mold squishing as it was pushed aside by the metal door. The room inside was just as covered with the filth, the glass paneling that would have peered out into the mine enveloped by long vines of the infection, the view completely obscured, along with the desk and chairs that he could barely recognize. Leon pushed the door open wider, stepping into the room, sweeping his sights along—

Oh fuck.

“Chris!” Leon cried out before he could be smart about it and keep quiet. He nearly tripped over himself in his effort to reach Chris Redfield, who was—

God, it was everywhere, the black Mold stretching across Chris’s body and pinning him to the wall like a cocoon or a spider’s next meal. The tendrils covered almost every inch of the man’s strong body, visible and alarming for the small slivers of skin and clothing Leon saw. The worst was the single appendage, though, that had itself wrapped around Chris’s neck and down Chris’s throat, a thick, black tentacle that had forced itself past Chris’s lips and shoved so far down that Leon could see the stretch in his esophagus. Leon shuddered, daring to take a step forward and put two fingers beneath Chris’s nostrils, overwhelmed with relief when he still felt breath. 

“What happened to you?” Leon asked Chris, denying the way his voice was almost shaking. He took a step back again and surveyed the extent of the grip the Mold had on Chris’s body, seeing no feasible way to just pull the disease away. Leon tucked his gun into the holster, switching for his knife instead, keeping his focus despite how badly he wanted to wake Chris up with violent shaking and demand his status. He had known it would be a disaster to start dating Chris Redfield considering all the trouble they got into respectively, but he hadn’t anticipated something like _this._ Chris pinned to the wall like a twisted piece of art, lifeless and empty. Leon reached up to peel open an eyelid and found Chris’s eyes were glassy. Whatever was happening to Chris, he wasn’t home at the moment. 

“Don’t worry,” Leon said as he turned the knife blade-down, looking for the weakest section to begin cutting away out. “I’m going to get you out of here.” He put his hand to one large mound of the Mold above Chris’s right arm and carefully dipped the blade into the mess, then pulled down to—

Lose his grip on the knife.

Leon frowned and grabbed the handle again, pulling a little more sharply, finding the knife wouldn’t budge. He yanked harder, getting a little desperate, but there was nothing. Leon cursed beneath his breath, tugged the handle as hard as he could, lost his balance and pitched forward, barely catching himself with his free hand landing in more of the infection just to the right of Chris’s left shoulder. And then he realized he couldn’t pull his hands away. 

“Oh fuck,” he said. He suddenly realized he’d gotten himself so far up shit creek without anyway to even _swim._ The Mold had folded its tendrils over and around Leon’s wrists, keeping him firmly in place, squeezing tight enough to hurt. The Mold undulated and oozed around his hands, the leather of his gloves doing little to mute the sensation of how every individual inch of the infection moved like it was alive on its own. He shuddered and tried to bring his hands back, but it was like they were stuck in hardened cement. Leon was braced in front of Chris, hands on either side of the man, caging Chris in like he was protecting him and not like he was a fucking idiot who had just touched this stuff without thinking it through. Except he’d been able to walk through this stuff without getting stuck, had pushed open the door no problem, why was it acting like this now? 

Leon sighed in a little more anxiety and annoyance and grinned shakily at Chris’s peaceful face, their noses only an inch or so apart with how Leon had gotten himself stuck. “You’re gonna give me such shit for this,” he tried to joke, trying to keep his spirits up. It was fine, Blue Umbrella knew he was in here, once he didn’t respond to a radio transmission, backup would be sent in just like they'd sent leon. It would be hilarious for the reinforcements of the reinforcements to get himself in such a shitty situation, but Leon would rather be the butt of jokes for decades to come than dead. “At least I get to pass the time staring at your gorgeous face,” Leon added, now talking more to himself. He was dating Redfield for a reason, after all— the man was more than just easy on the eyes. “Hopefully they don't let me stew in my failure for too long. They should—”

Leon cut himself off abruptly, hearing that same small noise of movement that had been keeping himself on edge since he’d gotten into this cavernous section of the mine. The soft squish of footsteps, something fucking moving, and he knew it wasn’t a trick this time because the footsteps were getting closer. “Shit,” he hissed beneath his breath, eyes going wide and looking to Chris even though he knew the man couldn’t help him. He tugged uselessly again, trying to even just wedge a fingertip or two free, but the Mold held fast and even tightened, squeezing his wrists and making him wince in pain. The footsteps were just outside this break room now, heavy thumps like boots or stumps rather than human feet, no secondary sound of the front part of the the foot hitting the ground after the other. Whatever was coming wasn’t friendly and Leon couldn’t get himself loose. He looked to Chris again, eyes wide, and—

He knew whatever was coming wasn’t going to attack Chris because Chris was already part of the Mold. But Leon? Leon was fucking done for.

He looked back to the door as it was forced wider open for a huge, bulking figure made of thin coils of the Mold, almost resembling diseased muscle stretching across long limbs that had sharp claws and a stumped alligator-like head, teeth longer than Leon’s fingers. It turned an eyeless gaze to Leon and the mouth that took up half the face opened and closed reflexively before it took a stumbled step forward. Leon braced himself within the mold, didn’t let himself feel hopeless, swinging his leg out in a graceful arch and kicking the creature square in the chest once it was close enough, sending it staggering back. The creature shrieked and corrected itself slowly, and Leon sent his boot into it again to send it further back. He thrashed uselessly at the grip on his wrists, starting to get a little panicked when he realized he couldn’t kick this thing to death. Another look into Chris and—

Well, fuck, at least he’d die with the man, right?

The creature lurched forward, dropping beneath Leon’s third kick and grabbing Leon’s thigh, a few of those claws digging in a little too sharply, but not puncturing. Already Leon could tell something was off about this BOW. Even as it advanced on Leon, holding him still by the grip on his leg, the thing wasn’t acting like it was a hostile. Predatory, yes, but those teeth weren’t going for his throat even as the creature— what had they called them back at HQ? The Molded?— got close enough to Leon for him to smell the rancid breath, the Molded pressing its front along Leon’s back, towering over him by almost two feet. Leon shuddered and thrashed in the grip, unable to pull his hands away and unable to get his leg back. “Let me go!” he shouted even though it was stupid to think this thing new English and would even respect the request. “Fucking let me go!”

The BOW didn’t listen, of course, but instead leaned over Leon, an inhumane snarl leaving its ruined throat. Leon went rigid as those teeth dragged across his bare neck, waiting for them to sink into his jugular and kill him, but they _fucking didn’t._ Leon gasped loudly with the release of anticipating his death as those teeth pulled back. He looked up at Chris and wished he was awake so Leon could ask why they fuck neither of them were dead. 

A clawed hand attached to a disgusting fungi arm wrapped itself around his waist, and Leon grunted as he tried to twist out of the grip, hands still caught. The thing behind him let out another unhappy noise with Leon’s struggle and his brain fought to figure out why he hadn’t been devoured when he felt something against his backside that— really shouldn’t be there.

He knew a little about the Molded— humans that had been consumed by the fungus and used as autonomous vehicles for Eveline’s will to create the perfect family and destroy all else. Whoever this had been before the Mold had overtaken them as long gone, but there was still a human carcass somewhere in there and it had to have been a male because Leon couldn’t find any other way to explain the stiff, blunt object he was feeling against the back of his thigh, long and hard and— 

The Molded shrieked in his ear and one of those claws was suddenly tearing down the back of Leon’s slacks, splitting pants down the seam along his backside. Leon went rigid, struggling to process, trying to understand even though his mind was knew what was happening as shock slid down his spine, cold and terrified, when that same hardness he’d felt before pressed against his bare skin, cold and dripping and much larger than a human’s cock. He started to pull at the hold on his wrists in renewed earnestness, a panicked noise slipping from his lips. “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, trying to reason with a monster that couldn’t understand him. “What the fuck are you doing, that’s not—”

His protest died into a wound noise as that blunt object suddenly shoved itself inside of him, no warning, no gradual stretch, just a shove that tore his body open, blood trickling down into his slacks along with whatever else slugged off from this awful creature, whatever slime and disease that was now caking Leon’s insides, tainting him. The horror settled slowly as the BOW immediately began to move, Leon’s insides shifting and protesting and his body trying to get the thing out of him, Leon’s hips trying to pull away without conscious effort. He whimpered, unable to get any other sound out past the fear that clawed up his throat and the thrust of an inhumanely large cock pushing the air from his lungs. 

The scum oozed from the Molded’s body, covering Leon’s bare skin and clothes as the monster fucked Leon hard and fast like an animal mating on instinct alone, snaps of the thing’s body slamming Leon forward and into Chris. He whimpered again and shook as the cock rammed into him over and over, the slap of the fungus against the flesh of his ass wedging itself into the deepest corners of his brain. Leon felt hot tracks trail down his face and looked up into Chris’s peaceful expression and tried to be grateful it was him, not Chris.

He felt the tentacles around his wrists slowly begin to loosen, but not enough for him to pull away, and not that he could. Leon cried out raggedly as a thrust hit something _wrong_ and he looked down to see the front of his stomach just slightly pushed out, a horrible sight because his organs weren’t supposed to do that. His legs shook but the clawed hands took him by the his hips and held him up, fucking him harder, forcing his face against Chris’s chest. The jolt of Leon’s body had Chris shifting and Leon swallowed down a cry, wishing the man was awake to comfort him while Leon tried to survive this— this honest hell, this experience he’d give anything to never have had, this memory he was going to drown in so much fucking hard liquor. 

He wailed, the sound stuttered by the bruising thrusts, and the wall was moving now, squirming and coming to life as Leon’s sounds of agony became a scream. The Molded howled with him and there was suddenly a gush of cold fluid into Leon’s insides, coating and contaminating him. His hips were dropped and Leon slumped into Chris’s pinned body, sobbing. 

The walls continued to move, and the monster behind him made a slow, croaking noise in the back of its throat. Leon tried to move, but his entire body ached. He trembled and lifted himself by the quivering strength of his arms, leaning heavily into Chris, gasping breathlessly into the fungus covering the larger man’s body. The Molded behind him kept making noises and the walls kept moving and the grip on Leon’s wrists flexed, loosened, tightened, then—

“W-wait!” Leon cried out as he was suddenly pulled from the wall by tendrils of disease wrapping around his arms and legs like rope. They pulled him away from Chris, away from the wall entirely, immobilizing him with slimy, iron knots around his limbs. Leon struggled uselessly, body still screaming from what he’d just survived, terrified of what was to come, if it was going to be somehow worse. He could feel whatever that Molded had dumped into him slipping down his skin as he was turned around and lifted into the air by powerful tentacles of Mold, the black fungus cold against his skin and staining his clothes. “Stop,” he choked out, struggling for breath as panic began to batter away his senses. “Fucking stop!”

The Mold didn’t listen, pressing Leon against the wall again, this time his back against Chris’s shoulder, the man’s body moving barely beneath him, still breathing. Leon wished he could find comfort in this. The Molded monster that had r— that had _used_ him was going down on its knees, melting into the rest of the fungus, being consumed and not fighting it. Leon watched in horror as that thing folded away into a thick mound of disease on the ground, melding into the mess like acid had been poured over it. 

Leon trembled in the grip of the appendages, thrashing weakly, his muscles and bones crying for relief as the tentacles gripped him harder and lifted his legs up into the air, bending them above his head and pressing his toes to the wall above his head, the Mold shredding his slacks and baring his skin. He could barely breathe like this, folded in half by the Mold that crawled down his legs and up his arms that were pinned behind and below his back, his body dangling helplessly, ass out and exposed to whatever came next. Leon sobbed and turned his head into Chris, the man’s cheek cold against Leon’s face but still somehow a comfort. He tried to break free, tried to maybe twist an arm or a leg out of the slimy grip, but Leon knew it was useless. There was the skin-crawling sound of slick things moving on the floor and the tentacles spread his legs wider, the tendons in his thighs straining to obey. “Chris,” he whispered, scared to be too loud, scared to aggravate the Mold. “Chris, w-wake up. _Please._ ”

Something cold pressed to where the Molded had split Leon open, something squirming and living like a snake, a smooth head pressing into Leon, giving to the clench of his body and yet forcing itself inside regardless, Leon letting out a ruined noise as he was violated again, the Mold reaching deeper than that monstrous cock could, slithering inside Leon and touching places that he didn’t even know he had sensation, foreign and invasive and making his stomach roil. He moaned a useless protest as the tentacle twisted inside of him, the slickness of the Mold giving some sort of lubrication while also smelling— Leon didn’t know what, but there was a new scent now, one that overpowered death, overwhelming his senses and making his head fuzzy with a combination of sweetness and bitterness. 

As the scent distracted him, his thoughts fumbling over themselves, a second appendage pushed in along the first, and Leon’s body accepted it willingly even as his brain told him he should scream. He whimpered instead, trying to break free one last time, his shoulders hurting from how his arms were held tight below him, his legs loosing feeling as the blood abandoned them. The two appendages were joined by a third and Leon cried out, trembling hard, half of his mind insisting everything was normal as the scent forced him to succumb to the stretch, and the other half insisting he was going to die if he didn’t fight back. 

Leon hid his face in Chris’s skin as the three limbs started to fuck Leon slowly, Leon panting harshly against the man’s lips that were stretched around the mold forced down Chris’s throat. The tentacles moved in rhythm, two pulling out as one pushed in, trading off in perfect unison, a hive mind taking Leon apart against his will. His thighs spasmed beside his head and Leon’s breath stopped for a moment as the scent permeated deeper, his cock swelling against his stomach and filling him with shame. Despite the horror and the way he could barely smell blood— his blood— past the sickening sweetness, Leon’s body was reacting like this was enjoyable, like this was _pleasurable_ , even as Leon’s stomach turned over and he tasted acid as the appendages pushed deeper and he could feel something move beneath his flesh. A scream boiled in his throat and he let it out, a final attempt to fight back in the singular act of rebellion, a small act of suicide, alerting his torture to whatever else was out there that could want a piece of him. 

The smell was intensifying with the power of the thrusting tentacles, his body jumping with each thrust that shoved a whine from his throat, the scream dying to defenseless grunts and fucked out noises that he hated himself for. His cock throbbed against his stomach, twitching with the thrusts, leaking against his skin, the precum pooling with the slime from the Mold. Leon forced his eyes open, the effort bringing more horror to his mind as he caught a glimpse of the movement in his bent torso, the vines that twisted inside like huge worms beneath the surface, and then looked to Chris again. 

The man—

Leon smiled dazedly as his vision began to darken and twist. “Chris,” he barely got out, throat ruined from the scream and the words coming to his tongue like a foreign language. The sweet bitterness was taking everything from him and he could barely breathe past the stench. His cock was so hard that he felt like he was dying. “Wake up,” he whispered before turning his neck and sinking his teeth into the Mold that was stretching Chris’s lips wide, digging in deep and tearing the appendage from Chris’s mouth. There was a screech, piercing and unending and coming from his mind, as the last of his vision faded away with the taste of the fungus poisoning him, Chris’s eyes blinking open and those brown irises struggling to focus being the last thing Leon saw.

. . .

There was this— this fucking sound, this wetness, this squelch of disgusting movement that made Chris furious with rage because the second he woke up was the second he remembered _everything._

Coming down in the mines, losing all of his men, hunting down that sick fuck Lucas Baker, finding the man overtaken and controlled and then that— the fucking Mold pervading, persevering, consuming Lucas as the new and true host, taking whatever revolting thoughts were in that psychopath’s brain and using them for new and improved fuckery. Ensnaring Chris, entrapping him, pinning him to a wall and shoving itself all the way down into his organs. He’d blacked out, thoughts filled with Lucas Baker’s shrill, nasally laughter, individuality and sense of self falling away into nothing as the Mold prepared to slowly consume him as it had done with everything else, but now he was awake and Leon—

It took Chris a moment to understand what he was seeing. Beyond the first thing that was in his line of sight, beyond Leon’s gorgeous blue eyes and blond hair all tousled and messy like he’d just woken up was—

Fury settled low in his gut and Chris lost himself all over again, this time to utter _rage._ Leon’s body was thrusted against his own, those abominable vines fucking Leon like he was some toy, some doll, like Leon was something that this thing could use. Noises slipped from Leon’s throat, breathless whines that were intermixed with pain and pleasure, and the smell— god, the _smell_ , sweet and hideous, nauseating, Leon was being raped by this _vile_ thing and Chris still had AW Model-01 with a full clip of RAMRODS clutched in his hand that was beneath the mess of the Mold and he was going to _kill_ this thing. 

Through sheer strength alone, Chris tore his right arm from the twisted Mold that had had him entangled, forcing his fist through and then grabbing handfuls of the Mold and tearing it away in strips, ridding himself of the fungus and knocking Leon. The abused man was limp and powerless to the might of the Mold, those tentacles still thrusting into Leon at a bruising speed. Those blue eyes were glassy and far away and slipping into the back of Leon’s head, the man breaking apart in front of Chris’s eyes, and that—

Chris pulled his other hand free, shoved the gun into his own mouth to grip the muzzle shaft between his teeth, then wrapped his right arm around Leon’s waist to hold the man tight while the other went around Leon’s body, grabbing the three depraved appendages and pulling them from Leon’s body, agonizingly slowly because he didn’t want to hurt Leon any worse than he already was. As the limbs were brought out, they thrashed and squirmed and slapped at Leon’s skin, searching out that tight hole again. Chris threw them aside, grabbed the AW Model from between his teeth, and fired a single shot into the huge mounded Mold that the tentacles came from, obliterating the despicable things before they could touch Leon. 

The Mold covering the walls and ceiling and floor shuddered violently and Leon was suddenly dropped as the vines that had been wrapped around him retreated. Chris grunted as he caught the man before he could hit the floor, Chris stomping his feet free of the Mold so he could bend and lower Leon to the ground. That pulsing mound was in the center of the room and Chris had no idea what it was, but he knew he could kill it. The top of the mound split open into a mouth, sharp, jagged teeth grinding in the dim light. This new creature of the Mold shrieked and something started to climb out of its throat, a hand with four ruined fingers, and thick steam that smelled like overly sweetened tar pouring out from around the new limb. 

Chris fired three more RAMROD shots into the mound and watched it die screaming, the Mold decaying and hardening before Chris’s eyes, the entire room caking and cracking away. Chunks of the calcified fungus fell from the ceiling and broke on the ground around him, and Leon—

Stirred to life, eyes opening, those blue eyes visible and—

Wrong, something was wrong, Leon’s pupils were too wide and uneven and—

Jesus, Chris had barely noticed before, but now he couldn’t ignore it. Leon’s cock was hard and heavy between the man’s legs, the tip red and swollen with how severely he was aroused. God, the Mold had been— it had been _fucking_ Leon, why would it do that, the Mold had never displayed such animalistic characteristics before. Why did this fucking BOW have some sort of sex drive? Maybe it was something to do with the hive mind control? Eveline was dead, but Chris had been pursuing Lucas Baker and there’d been reports of Lucas becoming some new vessel for the Mold, could this be a remnant of that psychopath’s psyche? The dude had been a real piece of work, Chris wouldn’t be surprised if Lucas brought his own twisted mindset into the Mold with his surrender, but to this extent? And Leon, god, _Leon_ —

Was looking up at Chris with those uneven pupils, that pretty mouth Chris had admired for years hanging open delicately, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips before Leon gasped his name and reached up with a weak hand, clinging to the front of his shirt. “It won’t…”

When Leon’s voice died away, Chris dropped to his knees beside the man, pulling him closer, gathering Leon in his arms and trying to ignore the way Leon’s body turned into him and that painful looking erection was pressed against his hip. He was going to ask Leon what he needed, what he could do, what his status was, because god, _Leon had been fucking raped_ , hadn’t he, what was Chris supposed to do, how was he supposed to—

The room was suddenly moving and Chris found himself on the floor amongst the calcified remains of the Mold with Leon atop him, the man moving slowly like he was underwater or drugged as he ground his cock against Chris’s thigh, achingly desperate noise bubbling from Leon’s throat uncontrollably. Chris was terrified to move. And then Leon was pulling himself up Chris’s body, sealing their mouths together— which had to be disgusting, a whole BOW vine had been down Chris’s throat for who knew how long— and Leon gasped, “It won’t go away, _please_ ,” and Chris didn’t know what “it” was until a sinful drag of Leon’s cock across the expanse of Chris’s naval gave him crystal-clear clarity. 

“The smell,” Leon was babbling uselessly into his mouth. “Everywhere, it’s everywhere, I can’t escape, I-I need to cum, I’m sorry, Chris, please, Chris, I can’t—”

Chris shut him up by returning the kiss, silencing Leon because the words Leon was saying were making it impossible to think. He couldn’t just touch Leon, the man was out of his mind, he coudn’t consent to this, not really, and there was the fear of something hearing them, hearing Leon, something bigger and worse that could take Chris’s RAMROD shots like they were nothing. And the mission, Lucas Baker, they were in the middle of a BOW-infected salt mine, this wasn’t the way Chris imagined being with Leon for the first time. And the possibility of hurting the man, even worsening what had already been done, there were too many variables and too many risks, and—

Leon was slowing in the kisses, his movements become sluggish and stilted like his brain was glitching away between seconds. Chris almost thought he was falling asleep until he realized Leon was breathing _wrong_ into Chris’s mouth, jilted little gasps and uneven intakes of air that didn’t make it as far as Leon’s lungs. Chris put his fingers to Leon’s pulse in his neck and found it was _racing._ It was too fast. Jesus, Leon was going to go into cardiac arrest.

“Please,” Leon slurred against him, those blue eyes that Chris loved so much beginning to lose more and more, Leon barely even able to keep his head up anymore. “Need— need you— help me—” Leon thrusted his hips into Chris again, a final, needy little movement that would be his last attempt to beg for Chris to save his life. “Please,” he whispered one last time “Chris, please, _please_ —”

Chris couldn’t take it, couldn’t listen to Leon plead for his life one second longer just because Chris was scared to do what he knew he had to. “Hate me later,” he told Leon as he turned the man over and got a hand on that cock that was hot to the touch and painful to look at, so painful that he couldn’t even imagine the agony Leon was in. “Hate me later,” he said again as he twisted his wrist and used the slick of Leon’s arousal as lube. “But I can’t lose you, Leon.” 

The man came back to life in Chris’s arms instantly, arching into Chris’s grip, eyes going wide as clarity bled through them. Leon looked up at Chris with his brow contorting with what Chris prayed was pleasure, the smaller man looking at Chris like he was seeing him for the first time tonight. A broken gasp of Chris’s name fell past those wet lips before Leon’s head was dropping back and he wailed into the room, thrashing in Chris’s arms, thrusting wildly into the grip of Chris’s hand. 

It was hard to keep focus, having Leon against him like this, looking everything like Chris was wrecking his world in the best way. A pretty flush crawled up Leon’s neck and stained his cheeks as Chris pumped Leon’s cock in earnest, the weight of Leon in his hand giving Chris a sick sort of euphoria. He buried his face in Leon’s neck that was damp with Mold and sweat and let Leon’s perfect little noises fill his senses, letting himself pretend that they were in his bedroom, in his apartment, safe and tucked away and both of sound mind and consenting. This would probably be the only time Chris got to touch Leon. He shoved the thought away and kissed Leon’s Adam’s apple, beginning to speak, to whisper, encouraging Leon. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured into the heated flesh of Leon’s body. “I’m right here, you’re safe now, everything’s gonna be okay.” Leon sobbed into his ear and Chris trailed his lips up Leon’s dirty neck to his face, fumbling their mouths together, Leon unable to kiss back as he rut desperately into Chris and fought to keep from shaking out of Chris’s arms entirely. Chris looked down the expansive of Leon’s body, to the coiled strength in those long legs that were beginning to bruise, the beautiful, pale skin of Leon’s stomach, the contrast of his red, angry cock in Chris’s huge hand. Chris tore his eyes from the sight and told himself this one moment would be enough in exchange for Leon’s life and wellbeing and kissed Leon again. 

Leon’s thighs clamped around Chris’s wrist, the man’s hips arching up, anticipating the approaching edge making Leon’s noisy cries almost mad. Chris knew he was close, knew Leon was right there at the precipice. He wormed his free hand beneath Leon’s head, brought the man's face into his own neck, and promised him, “I’ve got you— you’re safe. Let go, baby, let me hear you.”

Leon bowed back with such sudden force that Chris was almost knocked to the side, but he held fast and pumped Leon’s cock as the man came violently, the force of the BOW-influenced orgasm rippling through Leon like electricity, the man’s expression going slack, eyes slipping into the back of his head again, mouth hanging open as a strangled, wrecked moan of Chris’s name wrenched itself from Leon’s lungs. 

It went on forever, Leon stiff and shaking in Chris’s arms, Chris still stroking Leon through it, gentle little touches to the sensitive parts to make the orgasm as satisfying as possible, wanting Leon to get everything he needed out of this and get whatever it was that had done this to Leon out of him. As Leon came down slowly, chest heaving for breath, Chris couldn’t help but think of the awful stench he’d woken up to, the sweet bitterness that had made his stomach churn. A fungus was flora, it was possible there could have been some sort of aphrodisiac element. Chris wasn’t a scientist and he wasn’t eager to have Leon tell researchers about what he’d survived, but if more people were going to be at risk of this same hell as Leon—

“Oh fuck.” 

Leon’s voice tore through Chris’s thoughts and he gently lowered Leon’s head from his neck, searching the man’s expression desperately. “Leon,” he said, terrified of the aftermath. “Leon, are you—” How the fuck could Leon be okay after that? 

“Doctor,” Leon choked out. “I need a doctor. Holy fuck.” 

Chris nodded and stood after tucking the AW Model into its holster, lifting Leon bridal style cradling the man to his chest. Chris’s own clothes were a mess, Leon’s cum staining the front of his vest and shirt, and he knew that they were going to be a god damn sight coming out of the mine, but he didn’t give a shit. Leon had survived the Mold, but Chris didn’t know how long he could hold out with injuries Chris couldn’t name. He tried to keep his steps even, tried to keep from aggravating the injuries, was trying to be silent and focused and give Leon space, but—

A tired arm looped itself around his neck and Leon leaned into him heavily enough to be more than just necessary. Chris’s eyes burned as he kept his gaze straight ahead. “Thank you,” Leon said, voice gravelly and weak. “Not how I imagined our first time, but— at least it was you.”

Chris—

“I’m so sorry, Leon.”

Leon shrugged wearily against him. “Not gonna get over that any time soon,” he whispered. He went quiet for a moment and god knew Chris wasn’t going to make him talk. Leon sighed and turned his face into Chris’s chest like he was hiding. “Gonna sleep,” he mumbled. “Just— I don’t blame you. So don’t be selfish and try to take the blame anyway.” Leon was going more limp by the second, and Chris was still terrified part of Leon was being drugged into submission, but—

“We’ll get it right next time,” Leon said, the last word dropping away, and that was it. Leon was out cold and there was still half a mile to trek through the salt mines. Chris’s vision was blurring and yet—

He was so fucking grateful that he didn’t have words. 

Chris hoisted Leon up a little higher, told himself that it wasn’t much longer to the end and that he was going to save this one man from the mines if he couldn’t save anyone else, before putting one boot in front for the other and setting a march to match the quiet rhythm of Leon’s steady breaths.


End file.
